The Forgotten Tomb
by Princepen
Summary: When Captain Picard finds a strange artifact buried on Risa, everything changes. And not for the better. Set immediately after the events in "Ghost Ship".
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own the Trek...**

 _ **The Forgotten Tomb**_

* * *

 **Prologue**

 **850 years ago, Unknown Planet**

Ferengi Damon Kartu sunk the fingertips of his left hand into the sandy slope, as the door up ahead continued to close slowly but steadily, and blackness threatened to overwhelm him. In his other hand, he gripped the piece of blade so tightly that it cut into his palm. His feet slipped on the bones of the dead. So many long dead fools, scattered around him. But none of that mattered. Only his immense failure would be remembered. Unless his entire story was instead forgotten, erased from history.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **2366 Risa**

The lights from the outdoor marketplace made her face glow in a magical way. The warm early evening breeze blew through her hair, and for the first time ever he felt comfortable enough to stare at her up close without fear of guilt or rejection. It had been several weeks since Allen Harrow had plunged the Eve into a dying sun, leaving the crew of the _Enterprise_ to contemplate those brief but traumatic near death events. Beverly had accepted his invitation to Risa, which to his dismay had resulted in several other crew members finding out and inviting themselves along. Resigning to the reality that his entire crew was in serious need of rest and relaxation he had announced an official shore leave and brought the ship planet side.

"I enjoyed dinner," she said, leaning in to speak softly into his ear. "But not as much as I enjoyed you...before dinner," she added, as he felt her hand drop to his hip. He pulled back to look at her, feeling a confidence he had rarely felt in her presence.

He didn't respond immediately, just took in her gaze. "If you recall, Riker wants us to stop by his room later," he murmured.

She nodded, bringing her nose closer to his. "I know...the Horgan...or whatever that gift was that he promised you. You never confirmed."

"No I didn't. But...I think whatever bizarre object he intends to give me, can wait until tomorrow."

Her lips parted deliciously in silent agreement, and he took her hand, gripped by a quickly mounting desire.

They began to hurry through the crowded marketplace, but then as an afterthought, he halted, and put his other hand into his pocket. She stopped suddenly too, eyeing him with surprise. "What's wrong? Did you forget something?"

He fished something out of his pocket, holding it up in the fleeing sunlight. It was the small black artifact he had dug up in the desert that afternoon. It had seemed to change shape when he first found it, but now it was just a small black shard, perhaps rock, perhaps metal of some kind. Light but solid. "Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered, suddenly unable to take his eyes off of it.

"It is," she admitted. "Would you two like some time alone?" she said with a slightly irked expression, when he continued to gaze at it.

He laughed. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to sound so distracted." He tore his gaze away from the artifact and looked at her. "I was going to mention that I'd like to have this examined by a local archeaologist." Her expression was now more than slightly irked, and she loosened her grip on his hand. Seeing his foolishness, he dropped the artifact back into his pocket. "Of course, that can wait until tomorrow as well," he said, squeezing her hand. He kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled and took his arm, as they made their way through the crowd.

* * *

 **Later that evening...**

The knock on the door, was annoyingly precise. Geordi LaForge wrapped a bathrobe around himself, and shuffled barefoot to the door. He hit the door lock, and the door swished open. "Aww...come on. Data, look, I have someone-I have company," he said, taking in the android's consistently alert expression. "A woman," he added, lowering his voice as if Data understood how to be discreet.

Seeming to take his words literally, Data moved to the side and inclined his head to get a better vantage point.

"What are you doing?" Geordi sputtered.

"You instructed me to _look_ , Geordi, therefore I am looking for the woman in your hotel room."

"Data, it was a figure of speech."

"Ah. As I was saying-"

"Geordi? Geordi?" a female voice called seductively from the background, making Data pause. "Come back! I want to hear more about the anterior engineering deck on your ship."

"Intriguing," said Data. "I was not aware that Risans had an interest in warp engineering."

"Risans have an interest in whatever we have an interest in. That's what they're known for Data."

"But, hypothetically-"

Embarrassed, Geordi stepped outside quickly and the door shut behind him. "What do you want, Data?"

"A local art dealer has been murdered," said Data, having no trouble changing the subject to something deadly serious.

"Murder? On Risa? That doesn't make sense. Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Data. "And Doctor Crusher has just reported that Captain Picard is currently missing. Commander Riker ordered me to ascertain if the captain was with you."

Geordi's forehead creased. "Well, as you can see, he's not. Wait here, I'll go throw on some clothes and we'll find him."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Well, when did you last see him? "

Beverly stared off into the eerily pink sky. It was nearly dawn and the air was chilled outside of her bungalow. She shivered. "Around midnight...maybe." She glanced at Will. " Where is he? He's not answering his communicator."

"I know. Look, I know Troi already probably asked you this, but was he acting normally? Did he say anything strange?"

Beverly sighed and glanced around the courtyard, wishing Jean-Luc would just reappear from the fog. "Um, no...he was fine," she said simply.

"Well did he say anything when he left-"

Beverly rubbed her forehead, wondering how many questions and answers it would take for one of them to become uncomfortable. She bet it would be Will who would break first. "Look, Will...I last saw him awake around midnight. I thought we had both fallen asleep, and I don't know exactly when he left, because I didn't hear him _leave_ ," she added, shooting him a meaningful look. "So when I woke up and he was missing, I eventually left and returned to my room," she finished, gesturing over her shoulder.

Riker nodded, now slightly embarrassed at his misstep. After another awkward moment, he cleared his throat. "Troi, Data and Geordi are out looking for him right now. Any idea where he might have gone?"

She shrugged, and then glanced up at him quickly. " _Oh_! That damn artifact!"

"What artifact?"

"He found it yesterday afternoon out in the desert. It was all I could do to pry him away from the thing. You know how he can be with archaeology." Will nodded. "Anyway, he wanted to have it examined or something, and probably decided to go searching for any experts who might possibly be awake before dawn," she added wryly.

"There have been reports that a Risan man, an art dealer, was murdered just about an hour ago. So when you called me to see if he was with me, I became concerned that maybe the captain was in danger."

"Of course," she said, peering off into the distance with growing concern. Then she gave him a tight smile. "But I think we both know he can take care of himself."

* * *

Geordi spotted Troi and Data and jogged over to their agreed upon meeting place. "Anything? He asked.

Troi shook her head. "Among the three of us, we've covered the downtown area...there really aren't that many places to go...and besides, the authorities have blocked off a wide area around the crime scene." Suddenly she felt a familiar sensation in her mind, and turned on her heel.

Captain Picard's loose fitting shirt hung open carelessly, and he walked with a slight limp as he approached.

"Sir!" Deanna hurried away from Data's side. "Are you alright?"

He seemed to just notice them, and appeared at first confused, then annoyed. "Of course" he answered somewhat gruffly. "I might ask the same of you three," he said, adjusting his shirt and putting his hands into his pockets. "What are you doing out and about at this late hour?" He squinted in the rays of the now rising sun. "Or perhaps it's a bit early to be awake."

"Sir, there was a murder reported near the marketplace this morning. And you weren't answering your communicator..." LaForge trailed off, now sounding like he was wondering whether they had overreacted. Picard fixed his chief engineer with a probing stare, which gave way to subtle amusement, as he noticed that LaForge had a smudge of what appeared to be lipstick on the side of his Visor.

"I see," said Picard, aware that Troi was silently observing him. "How tragic and...unusual for Risa. All the more reason to end shore leave early," he added curtly.

Troi stepped forward. "Sir, did you-"

He quickly cut her off. "Thank you all for your concern, but I am quite well. I simply decided to take a walk to enjoy the fresh air. Now if you will all excuse me..."

"Captain," Data called after him.

Picard hesitated and turned back. "Yes?"

"Are you injured? You appear to have fallen."

Picard looked down at his pant legs, and wiped away some drying mud. The fabric over one knee was torn. Then he straightened and smiled confidently at them. Something about his gaze looked strange, but then passed. "Yes. I tripped and fell in the dark. So clumsy of me." With that, he turned again and walked away swiftly through the courtyard.

* * *

She knocked several times before he called out for her to come in. When she finally entered, she found him standing next to his bed, shoving clothes into his compact suitcase. She walked over to his side, arms crossed, and stood there for a moment, but he was so intent on this mundane task that he didn't seem to notice. She took another step closer to his side and teasingly elbowed him in the ribs. To her surprise he jumped slightly.

"Oh, hello," he said, offering her a small, perhaps even sly smile.

"In a hurry?"

He finally clicked the case closed and stood up straighter. "No," he said. "But I have issued an order for all personnel to return to the Enterprise. I thought it appropriate to set a good example."

She eyed him curiously. "I don't believe you...there's something else going on with you, and I'm going to find out." She suddenly hugged him around his waist and brought her lips to his neck. "Just a few hours ago you told me you had no intention of going anywhere, and then I wake up to find you abandoned me in your bed Jean-Luc. Now what am I supposed to think? And then Riker with his 20 questions..."

He laughed, and kissed her quickly. "I'm sorry, Beverly, I didn't intend to abandon you or to send my first officer into a tizzy. I came back, didn't I?"

She grew still and looked at him closely, still holding onto his waist. "Out with it. What happened? Where did you go?"

He shrugged casually. "Nothing happened at all, and I simply wandered the city limits."

"Were you looking for someone to assess your newfound treasure?"

He smiled, but then it fled his features almost immediately. "Yes."

"And did you find anyone?"

"No," he said without pause.

"And you didn't run into any trouble?"

"No." The skin around his eyes crinkled good naturedly when he smiled again. "Were you worried about me?"

She pulled him closer. "Maybe. Maybe I missed you. This is a new relationship after all...I have needs."

He laughed, as she pushed him onto the bed, and her momentum took her down with him. She linked hands with him but he didn't allow her to pin him immediately, which turned into something of a wrestling match. He began to laugh again as their breath began to quicken and she found his mouth, silencing his laughter. Giving in to the kiss, he felt her hands brace on his stomach as she moved over his lap. Bending over him she gasped as the heat between them began to grow. Suddenly, she ceased her wonderful rocking motion, and he felt her rise up and look at him.

He shifted his head to look up at her, barely finding the words to speak. "What's wrong?"

She grabbed him lightly by the palm. "What happened to your hands?" Her voice betrayed her alarm, and he carefully extracted his hand from hers.

"Nothing," he murmured.

She moved off of him, rolling onto her side as she grabbed his hand again. This time he reluctantly relaxed it so that she could see.

"Jean-Luc, you have cuts all over your palms. You said nothing happened," she accused him.

He laughed, but stopped abruptly when he saw that she was serious. "Beverly, it's nothing. It was dark, and I nearly fell on my face walking along. I used my hands to break my fall." She still watched him with growing disbelief, but relaxed to a degree, kissing the heel of his hand gently.

"I'm fine," he reassured her softly.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door Beverly groaned and dropped her head on the sheet. "It just has to be _Riker."_

"Captain," Riker called out from behind the closed door. "I'm sorry to bother you sir...but the local authorities are asking to speak with you immediately before we depart for the Enterprise."

* * *

 **Hi, thanks for checking out this story. Peace. -PP**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Earth, Space Dock**

 **One week later...**

Beverly Crusher stood highlighting tasks on her data pad, while surveying the new trainees as they stood lined up in shuttle bay 2. To a person they were untested, and very nervous. Deanna Troi stood nearby, no doubt undertaking her own silent evaluation of the new medical personnel, who had come aboard the ship just minutes ago. The twenty-five recent Medical Academy graduates had been temporarily assigned to the Enterprise for emergency training. Coincidentally, an unknown alien virus was reported as having spread quickly near the Neutral Zone colonies, and the Enterprise along with two more ships had been deployed to assist. The medical trainees were about to be thrown into the thick of a deadly outbreak, and Beverly had been chosen as their primary mentor.

"We've got a lot of work ahead of us, and just three and a half days before we arrive at the first colony in need of our assistance. The Enterprise is scheduled to stop only briefly to assess, gather data, treat where possible, and deliver supplies. The _USS Jemison_ and _USS Drew_ will remain in the vicinity indefinitely until further notice. If all goes well, a few of you may remain with our sister ships." As the young officers glanced around at each other with restrained excitement, she tapped the data pad against her thigh absently. She wasn't one for speeches, but she felt under the circumstances, one was appropriate. She should have asked Jean-Luc for his opinion. "On this ship we value teamwork, and you will be split up into five team assignments with specific roles, focusing on ensuring sufficient emergency supplies, triage, data collection and organism isolation, diagnosis and treatment. You determine who will fill each role, but I am here to make sure you learn and apply the basics. We're not cutting any corners, people's lives are at stake. Now you have your schedules for the rest of today. Any questions?"

All she received were wide-eyed stares. Of course they had questions, but she knew until they began to work, they would be hesitant to ask them. "Let's get to work."

Once they had filed out, she glanced at Deanna. "Was that last part too much? 'People's lives are at stake?'"

Deanna smiled in support. "I thought it was a good pep talk. Straightforward...to the point."

Beverly yawned. "Let's hope they got my point. Because despite our little vacation a week ago, I'm not feeling exactly refreshed."

"Hmm," said Troi.

"Hmm...what?"

"It's funny you should mention that."

"Funny, as in amusing, or funny as in you have a funny feeling."

Troi pursed her lips. "Perhaps it is the latter." She paused looking carefully at her friend. "I'm sensing something interesting about Captain Picard. He is quite...preoccupied since having returned from Risa. Have you spoken to him recently?"

Beverly frowned. "I haven't seen him for more than a few minutes for the last few days. I agree he has seemed preoccupied, but that's nothing new."

"It's not?"

"No. Jean-Luc is a very introspective person. He tends to prefer to be alone to think, sometimes for long periods...as you well know."

"And you're fine with that? Even though you two are...?"

"Are _what_? Look, Troi, I'm busy, he's busy. We're both busy. I am just allowing him his space."

"That's a very mature way to view a brand new relationship."

"Yes, well, we're both grown-ups. We've known each other a long time-"

"But not intimately."

Beverly laughed. "You are persistent today aren't you, Deanna?"

"Always." Troi took Beverly's arm as they began to walk side by side. "I don't want to tell you what to do...but I do sense something different about him since we returned from Risa. Perhaps he was more unsettled by what happened on that last day, than he has let on. I think he would benefit from your input."

Beverly squeezed Troi's arm in hers. "Okay. I'll take your advice. After all, you're usually right."

* * *

"Glad to hear the ship repairs are almost complete. Thank you for meeting with me, Commander."

Riker walked into the room after the Admiral and was immediately struck by the bright colors, a contrast from the various shades of beige on the Enterprise. _Nice carpeting_ , he thought, taking in the plush furnishings of Starfleet's administrative offices. "Of course, Admiral Ramos," he said aloud. "Space Dock has always had a special place in my heart ever since I was a green cadet," he said, sitting down across from his superior. "I'm always up for a visit, however brief. So...what can I do for you?"

The older man shifted uncomfortably. "As soon as I heard that the Enterprise was picking up medical trainees, I knew I had a chance to meet with you discreetly."

 _Okay._ Riker said nothing in response, just waited.

The Admiral placed a data pad down on the table in front of him with a click. "I want you to watch something with me." He tapped at the device and a moment later, a hologram hovered above the table. In the holo Captain Picard was seated, and appeared to be talking with an unseen person.

Riker was now the one who felt uncomfortable. He didn't like surprises of this nature; and he didn't appreciate what he now knew would be a conversation about his commanding officer without Picard present. It was then that the sound kicked in. Will sat and listened attentively. This was obviously the captain's interrogation vid from the incident on Risa a week previously. The captain had been quiet about his run-in with Risan authorities, and had been generally subdued since they had all returned to the ship. Riker had thought the incident was behind them, but apparently he'd thought wrong. The video lasted about ten minutes, and then abruptly blinked away.

"Well? What do you think?"

Riker squinted suspiciously. "About what?"

Admiral Ramos watched Riker closely. "He denied having been present at the scene of the crime, denied meeting anyone while he was out for his walk..."

Riker remained silent, still waiting for something more substantial.

Ramos switched the data pad back on and a new image came up. Now suspended before them was the fixed view of a nearly empty marketplace. Just a few people were out, and in one corner of the frame he saw a familiar figure. Picard was walking with another person.

"This was shot by a security camera the night of the murder. The lighting has been enhanced to-"

"So its been doctored" Will interrupted sharply.

"As I said... it was _enhanced_ to provide a clearer view given the late hour."

"And? What is this offered to show?"

"Commander, I'm surprised at your defensiveness..."

"With all due respect sir...I'd like to know where this is going. Is Captain Picard being accused of a crime?"

Ramos smiled thinly. "Commander, the Risan man he is with in this vid has been identified as the Risan who was murdered early that morning."

"That still doesn't put him at the crime scene."

"But it proves he lied. Now why would he do that?"

Riker felt his face growing warm with anger and confusion. The captain hadn't said more than a few words about what had happened down on Risa. In fact, Riker recalled Picard had simply told him, "Not to worry, Number One." Because he trusted the captain so implicitly, he hadn't questioned a thing.

Will got up from his seat. "Is that a question you really believe I can answer? And if so, am I being accused of murder as well?"

"No one is accusing anyone, of anything, Commander Riker," Ramos responded tightly, glaring up at him. "Now are you aware that Captain Picard has requested a temporary leave of absence?"

Riker blinked and shook his head in confusion. "No. Leave of absence? Why?"

"He's elected to remain on board during his leave, but I believe his request said something about needing...rest."

Riker tried to shrug it off. _Doesn't sound a bit like Picard. Especially now that we're facing a crisis-related mission._ "Then I guess that's what he needs."

"Which puts you in charge of the Enterprise for this current medical mission." Ramos stood up, and offered his hand for Riker to shake. "Good luck." Riker shook firmly, before the Admiral added, "And I'll trust you to keep an eye on Picard for me."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Beverly stood in the middle of Jean-Luc's living room. There were multiple data pads and as many dusty old fashioned, even alien looking books lying on tables chairs and the floor. And the room seemed deadly quiet, and darker than normal. Something akin to a whisp of fear moved through her mind, and then dissipated. Still she hesitated for some reason to announce her presence by calling out his name.

Her gaze caught on a large white sheet of oddly textured material, which covered the entire kitchen table. She walked over and touched a corner of it carefully. "Paper," she whispered, wrinkling the ancient medium between her fingertips. Gradually she noticed some was written, or rather drawn on the paper. An odd looking writing implement was resting nearby. She leaned down to look more closely at the drawing and recognized it immediately. It was a reproduction of the artifact he'd found on Risa. "He's been preoccupied alright," she said quietly. "With this _thing_."

The front door hissed open and he walked in, wearing shorts and obviously fresh from the gym. Again, she felt the whisp of fear and then guilt at having felt it. She crossed her arms, aware that her posture seemed defensive already. Would he object to her little investigation?

But to her relief he brightened when he saw her. "Hello," he called out, walking straight to the replicator, slightly out of breath. "Water." The glass of water swirled into his waiting hand and he gulped it down. Then he smiled, walking closer to her.

"Have a nice run?"

"Yes, in fact, it was wonderful," he admitted, still smiling.

"It's good seeing you so relaxed," she said, returning his smile. "Really good."

He shrugged. "Exercise has always been a refuge for me. Besides, it's good to keep conditioned. You never know when you might be running for your life." Something about the way he said it left her cold, even though he appeared relaxed and calm. He turned and walked back to the replicator, ordering more water.

She followed him. "Wait...was that supposed to be a joke?"

He sipped at his water, turning back to face her. "Starfleet security paid me a visit earlier today. Beamed over here from Space Dock."

"Why?"

He shrugged again and placed the glass down on the counter with a loud click. She could tell that despite his casual demeanor, he was angry. "More questions...or rather the same questions asked by someone new."

"About Risa? What do they want from you? You told me the Risans seemed satisfied that you hadn't witnessed anything..."

He took her hand. "They can ask me as many questions as they wish. As long as you understand that I didn't do anything, Beverly. You know me, and it's not who I am."

 _Just what are they accusing him of?_ She frowned and looked down at his hand, feeling suddenly uneasy. "Of course I know you, I just need to know what's going on so that I can protect you. I need you to be honest with me Jean-Luc."

"I will, of course. Thank you. It means the world to me to have your support. " He smiled and gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go. "Now, let me go and shower. Then we can talk further if you have time."

"Okay." He kissed her quickly on the cheek as he passed by. "Don't you have to be on duty soon?" She called after him, but he had already disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

She made some tea while waiting for him, and then sat down. When he reentered the living room he had changed into off duty attire. As he passed by her he dropped his hand onto her shoulder briefly, and she noted that he smelled warm and very nice. She watched him, determined not to become too distracted. "I haven't seen you in a few days...how are your new recruits?" He said, sitting down across from her. Two steaming cups of tea sat on the small table between them.

"Oh," she said, not expecting this question and still preoccupied with their earlier conversation. "Too early to tell. But this mission will certainly test them in every possible way."

"Well...they couldn't have been assigned a better teacher," he said leaning forward.

She put down her tea cup and looked at him. "Jean-Luc...you're still dressed in civilian clothes. I expected you to be rushing out of here to the bridge-"

"As I normally would?" He finished for her quietly, sipping his tea.

"Yes...as you _normally_ would. So are you going to tell me what's going on?"

He slid a data pad over to her and she picked it up reading with a frown.

"As of ten minutes ago I have been approved for a temporary leave of absence."

"A leave of absence?" She stood up quickly. "You're leaving and you didn't even tell me?"

"No, no, its not like that at all...I'm not leaving the ship. I just need some time off."

 _Words I never thought I would hear escape from his mouth_. "Why? Is this about what happened on Risa? Because you never really told me about what happened down there. You told me you _fell._ "

He put his tea down and lifted his chin to look up at her. "I did fall," he insisted quietly.

She crossed her arms, feeling her anger spreading within. "Somebody hurt you, didn't they? I saw your hands, Jean-Luc. Something more happened than you're telling me. Why do you need time off?"

"Beverly...for years you have been telling me to take time from work. Now you've changed your mind?"

"You've covered your quarters with books researching some weird artifact you found, you're taking a sudden unexplained and unprecedented leave of absence after being questioned by security, and I'm supposed to pretend that this is normal? Is that what you think?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "No...but I can't comprehend why you are so upset."

"Because you're not telling me the truth, and it's pissing me off!"

His only response was to sit back in his seat and close his eyes. She took that as an opportunity to walk away and calm herself down". After a few more seconds passed, she walked back to him. "Look...all I am saying is that I want to help you if I can. So just tell me what this is all about.

He inclined his head toward the memo from Admiral Ramos, but she shook her head.

"I don't want to read it, I want _you_ to tell me. As much as I have advocated for you to take vacations in the past, this is uncharacteristic of you." She sat down next to him.

He sniffed in, and clasped his hands between his knees looking down at the floor. He still seemed impossibly calm to her, despite her own histrionics and it made her feel as though she had overreacted just now. He glanced at her. "It may be difficult for you to understand, but recently I've been considering a career change. And so I am taking some time off to consider my options."

She put her hand on his arm and leaned in staring at the same spot on the floor that seemed to be captivating him. "Are you considering a career change because of what happened on Risa?"

"Partially yes..." He looked at her. "But truthfully, I don't really know..."

She turned her head towards him, and as she looked into his eyes she could see doubt and confusion behind his placid facade. Something was going on inside of him that he couldn't explain to her.

* * *

Commander Riker rubbed his chin, lost in thought, almost unconsciously rewinding the holo vid again, and replaying it from the same spot. This particular vid was one forwarded to him by Starfleet Intelligence, at Admiral Ramos' command, just before they had departed Space Dock for the Neutral Zone. The Captain had been interrogated by intel earlier that day, and security had questioned him for over an hour about the incident. They were of course more aggressive than the Risans had been.

 _"Did the Risans tell you how the man died?"_

 _"No."_

 _"His neck was broken in three different places." The intelligence officer traced his finger down the side of his neck, keeping his gaze on Picard's._

 _Picard shook his head. "Tragic."_

 _"What is your hand to hand combat experience?"_

 _Picard smiled slightly as if amused by the question. "I'm an explorer...a negotiator. Are you suggesting I broke that poor man's neck with my bare hands?"_

 _"Answer the question," came the clipped reply._

 _"I've had the standard hand-to-hand combat training required by Starfleet."_

 _"So, doesn't that make you capable of breaking a man's neck?"_

 _"It's all academic though really, because I did not murder anybody."_

 _"The Risans think you did."_

 _Picard lifted his hands up before dropping them on his knees in exasperation. "Well... I didn't."_

 _"You were a wrestling champion at the Academy, weren't you?"_

 _"Yes...at the Academy. That was more than a few years ago."_

 _"Pretty known for being calm and cool-headed, aren't you? A skilled negotiator."_

 _"I don't put too much stock in what others think of me."_

 _"Well...that's your reputation," the officer said with a smile. "But you've snapped before, haven't you?"_

 _"You tell me...what the hell does that even mean?"_

 _"You jumped a bunch of Nausiccans, lost your heart-and not to a woman. They stabbed it right through, didn't they?"_

 _"You've obviously studied my medical records, but to confirm-yes, I lost my heart that day. At the age of nineteen, over a foolish episode I was certainly never proud of."_

"Computer pause." Riker sat back in his chair, and tapped his fingers on the table in front of him.

"Computer, go forward ten seconds."

 _"Why did you lie about meeting someone out on your midnight walk?"_

 _"I didn't lie. I don't recall meeting anyone."_

 _"Not even him?" The intel officer held up a small data pad, and Picard blinked._

 _"Computer pause"._ Riker studied the frozen face of his commanding officer. He flinched in that moment. There was no guilt in his expression. But there was something there.

"Resume."

 _"Looks like you recognized him...so again, why lie?"_

 _Picard ran a hand over his head. "This is absurd."_

 _"Why didn't you contact your girlfriend when she called you that night? Trouble in paradise?"_

 _Picard worked his jaw angrily. "I didn't hear Beverly calling me."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"I told you, I had placed my communicator in a small satchel, and for some reason, didn't notice it was transmitting."_

 _"How are your hands? We noticed in the Risan records they were pretty banged up."_

 _"I fell," Picard said flatly._

 _"That's a violent fall, Captain. Did someone push you?"_

 _"Of course not. Because I wasn't with anyone," he maintained._

 _"The Risans took dirt samples from your hands. You'd taken a shower after the incident, but even Risan technology isn't that weak. There was plently left for them to analyze. It's almost like you didn't even try to cover anything up."_

 _"I had no reason to because I didn't see anyone, didn't witness anything, and I certainly did not murder that man."_

 _"They took samples from the scene of the crime too. Wanna know what they found?"_

 _Picard stared the man down. "What?"_

 _The officer leaned in. "You were there. Your DNA is all over that alley."_

 _"I don't believe you. Because I wasn't there."_

 _"I believe you fell. And it was in that alley. During the struggle you fell, but it didn't stop you from getting up to break his neck, did it?"_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Beverly got up and walked over to the table with the long sheet of paper. "This is a very large paper," she observed sounding a bit puzzled. "I know you replicated it, but it's just odd to see such a thing."

"Actually in ancient times such things were referred to as _pieces_ of paper," he corrected her.

"I see...well, my point is that it's a really big piece of paper for such a small drawing, Jean-Luc."

"It's part of ...a mosaic of sorts. The drawing is unfinished."

"Why is this artifact so important to you?"

"The story fascinates me. Aside from that I cannot say."

"So you've identified it...you know its history?

"Not exactly," he admitted. "But I believe I am close to confirming it's source. If I'm correct it could be of immense value to uncovering a lost bit of Romulan history.

Her eyes widened slightly. "Romulan?"

He smiled. "Or Vulcan, depending on how you look at it. If I'm right, it is so ancient that it belongs in a sense to both cultures."

She searched his eyes. "It's the not knowing that is holding you so rapt by this object...isn't it?"

He didn't answer, but nodded slightly, his eyes now seemed lit from within. "So you do understand."

"I'm a scientist. So yes, I understand the way curiosity and even the process of discovery can capture your entire being, if you let it. It's happened to me before, certainly." She touched his face lightly. "But you can't let it get a hold on you," she said quietly. "Everything that has happened recently...well I can't lose you. I refuse to. Promise me you'll tell me if something about this...this object isn't right?"

He took her hand that had been resting on his cheek. "I promise."

Relieved at their understanding, she suddenly remembered something. "I have this friend...at Daystrom...Emil. Maybe he can help you authenticate it!"

His expression turned to one of subtle embarrassment. "Professor Emil Duchamps? I've already contacted him. However, I think it's unlikely he will respond if he knows you are calling on my behalf."

She looked at him with open surprise. "You know him? Why he's an old friend of mine."

"I do-or rather I _did_ know him. We were friends until we were teens. We had a falling out."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really. Do tell."

"There isn't much to say. It was over a young lady."

She laughed. "I _see_. You stole his girlfriend."

He just stared back at her.

"You really did...oh. Well, I'm sure he's over it by now."

He gave an uncomfortable smile. "Unlikely. Besides, as I mentioned, he hasn't responded to my calls-"

"Shh." She put her hands on his shoulders. "Just let me do this for you. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, as she pulled him into a hug.

"Join me for dinner tomorrow night?" she asked. "I need to work with my trainees for the rest of today and tomorrow, but by then I think I'll want another break." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "And I'll want to see you before we reach the neutral zone."

He nodded. "That sounds wonderful."

* * *

After Beverly left he sat down at the table, sketching on the paper, before the lines began to blur and he became very drowsy. He put his forehead down on his arm just to rest his eyes, but the drowsiness seemed to drag him downward. As he descended into sleep, a tall hooded figure entered his dreams, just as he had every night for the past week. The figure stood very still, except that one hand was outstretched beckoning silently, the other clasping a staff of wood taller than himself. At his feet lay a shattered blade, which glowed red, but from which pieces were missing. "Come to me my servant," said the figure, pointing to the sand at his feet where the broken blade sat. "Study and learn."

He eagerly rushed forward and knelt down, desperately trying to memorize the patterns in the blade, and the two missing fragments.

"The scepter is nearly repaired. Confirm the piece in your possession is truly mine, and then travel to the land of my fathers where you will locate the final piece of this blade. Bring them both to me and you will be rewarded by a place at my side as we recapture what is rightfully mine. An army is awaiting us beneath the raptor's wings. All those who stand in our way must suffer. Do not hesitate to carry out my will, or everything you know and care for will perish in flames when I return."

"I understand," he heard himself say.

"Do you renounce Surak and the ways of logic?"

"I do."

"Then go forth and carry out your destiny."

* * *

When Jean-Luc woke up, he was lying face down on his living room floor. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, and he felt hungry and shaky. "Computer...time?"

 _"It is 0330 in the morning, Captain."_

"What?" He got to his feet, and staggered, light-headed. He moved clumsily over to a chair and put his hands on the back of it, leaning his full weight on it. He felt nauseous and famished at the same time.

 _"It is 0330 in the morning,"_ the computer dutifully repeated.

He rubbed his jaw and found a substantial amount of beard growth. Strange...he thought he'd only just fallen asleep. "What is today's date?"

 _"Stardate 43627.6"_

He was still confused, felt out of place as though he didn't belong in the here and now. "When was Beverly Crusher last in my quarters?"

 _"Approximately 49 hours, Captain."_

"Damn!" He saw his personal terminal was blinking green. He reached over to the computer and swiped his hand over it.

 _"You have sixteen new messages."_

He fell into the seat, and began to scroll through them manually. The first one was from the Daystrom Institute:

 ** _Dear Jean-Luc Picard,_**

 ** _Your petition for examination of your purported Risan archaeological find has been accepted. Kindly bring your specimen to the Daystrom Institute, Suite 164E on Star date 43627.7 at 0930._**

 ** _Regards,_**

 ** _Professor Emil Duchamps_**

His heart skipped several beats. Beverly had done it. But the appointment was tomorrow morning. How could he possibly arrive there in time?

"Computer, what is the current general location of the _Enterprise_?"

 _"The Enterprise is now entering the Federation colonies on the outskirts of the Romulan Neutral Zone."_

He covered eyes with his hands, unable to fathom how he could have been unconscious for two whole days. And still, what nagged in the back of his mind was whether he would be able to reach the Institute in time. He pulled the artifact out of his pocket. A dull grey metal that glowed red in his mind's eye.

The next six were from Beverly. The first one was from more than 24 hours ago, when he'd been scheduled to have dinner with her in Ten Forward. He switched to visual, and her tired expression flashed onto the screen. _" **Hi, I hope everything's okay with you, Jean-Luc. I've been absolutely consumed with these new officers, and we've been getting some oddly mixed messages from the colonies we're headed to. Riker is speaking with Command about it right now. Anyway, I'm too tired to think, but I'd still like to see you tonight."**_ She broke into a shy smile. **_"I'll see you around 1900 hours. I love you."_**

He skipped to the third message from her, which was in writing. " ** _Honestly, what is going on with you? I thought you were just blowing me off, but I'm beginning to suspect otherwise. The computer says you're fine, but you won't answer your door. Have you changed the security codes? Call me, before I have Worf literally bust your door down."_**

He got up and ran toward his door, still light headed from lack of food and water. The door was shut, and remained so, even when he nearly ran into it face first. "Computer! Open this door immediately."

 _"Pursuant to Starfleet Security Order 219 issued fourteen hours ago, you are not permitted to leave your quarters."_

He turned around slowly, and walked back to his terminal. He scrolled through the messages again, this time seeing one from Starfleet Security. **"Jean-Luc Picard, you have been charged with the wrongful death of Risan citizen Havra Lander. Your crime will be prosecuted in a civilian tribunal on behalf of the Federation by Starfleet Security. You are hereby ordered to remain under house arrest until pick-up. It is in your interests to peacefully comply with this order."**

Panic had not yet set in, and he felt oddly calm. They were coming for him. He had to think and act decisively. He stood up. "Computer, play the most recent message from Beverly Crusher. Audio only."

He closed his eyes and listened. Her tone was bitter, and he could tell she'd been crying, but had composed herself enough to record the message. " **I have been instructed not to contact you...are you even there? Riker won't tell me a thing, he just buries himself in work. That's what we're all doing. It's almost a tribute to you, I suppose that everyone is focusing on the job at hand, just as we know you would. We're on radio silence with the colonies, and our other ships haven't heard a thing from them either. Is it some kind of Romulan trap?**

 **In a few hours I'll deploy to the nearest colony with my teams and...and I have no idea what is going on, whether they will have arrested you by the time I return. There's nothing I can do right now, but I promise you I will fight for you when we get through this mission, Jean-Luc. I don't believe a word of what they are saying about you. And I never will-"**

"Computer, end message," he whispered. His lips trembled, and he walked away, compelled to return to examine the drawing on his table. To his own surprise, the paper was now covered in hundreds of pieces which fit together in a puzzle, forming the shape of a heavy looking blade. He was surprised, and at the same time, he knew he had created this. There was only one thing to do. Beverly was correct. He hadn't done a thing wrong. But they were now hunting him. And that was why he had to escape.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Sweat began to pour down his face. Jean-Luc grabbed a small backpack and threw some of his research materials inside, along with a small phaser. He hesitated, resting his fingertips on the artifact inside his pocket and his gaze fell on his communicator lying on a nearby table. He then realized he would need to leave it behind. They would be able to track him if he brought it along. Something inside of him was still conflicted, but he hadn't killed that man...had he? He began to pace the room anxiously. A guard would be outside the door. He could stun the guard and get to the secondary shuttle bay in no time at all. But the door was locked. If he used his phaser to disarm the lock, it would set off an alarm.

"Computer, have any ships entered any of the shuttle bays in the last two days?"

 _Affirmative. A class 1 security force ship docked in the main shuttle bay 4.2 hours ago._

They're here already," he whispered. "They'll be coming for me any minute now. I must find a way."

* * *

 **Federation Colony**

When Beverly and her team materialized on the colony below, they new immediately that there was a problem, although not the problem they had expected. No colonists were immediately visible in the dusty town square, but as the dust cleared they saw about one hundred colonists standing in a wide circle around them. Behind the colonists stood tall, lean figures dressed in silver and black. Disruptor weapons gleamed in the reddish sunlight, as the figures stepped forward.

Worf let out a very low growl next to her, and powered up his phaser. "Romulans." As if on cue, some of the Romulans stepped out from behind the colonists, weapons raised.

It was evident also based on her quick tricorder reading, that the colonists were not infected with any virus at all. Aside from looking quite stunned, the colonists seemed unharmed. Beverly pulled her phaser, but even as she did, she knew it was a wasted effort. Her small team of six medical officers and Worf were outnumbered and outgunned.

"Now, now," said the lead Romulan, stepping into the clearing gracefully. "Let us greet our worthy Federation rivals without violence."

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Discarding all of her viral protocol training, Beverly tore off her protective helmet and nearly threw it at the Romulan Commander. Seeing him now eye to eye, she recognized who he was, although she didn't know his name.

"Commander Tomalak," Worf said, pointing his phaser at the Romulan leader's chest.

Tomalak eyed Worf briefly. "Unlike some of the more...brutal races, we Romulans prefer to use our _brains_ , before our disruptors..."

Beverly faced him squarely. "By invading this colony, you're in violation of the Treaty of-of-"

"Treaty of Algeron?" he offered with a small smile. "You are not a diplomat perhaps..."

"No! I'm a doctor. We received reports that this colony had been infected by an unknown virus."

"I sent those reports," admitted Tomalak. "You will find the other reportedly infected colonies are similarly...virus free."

"Why?" Worf demanded.

Tomalak swept his long cape aside, and walked away from them. "If I am in violation of the Treaty, it is only to defend my people from a Federation threat. Captain Picard, with whom I am now acquainted is in possession of an item of great power. Once we confirmed the Enterprise would be sent to investigate the rumored virus, I endeavored to intercept. Captain Picard is himself engaging in an act of war, simply by possessing this object. And so I have come to relieve him of it, thereby maintaining the peace...of course, if I am unsuccessful, war is the next best alternative."

* * *

"Commander, I fail to understand on what basis you are stalling." Deputy Chief of Starfleet Security Adam Logan sat back almost casually in the chair. A few hours earlier, he had arrived on board the _Enterprise_ with a contingent of elite security personnel, quickly making themselves at home, to Riker's discontent. Logan's cold and impassive expression only reinforced in Riker's mind that Picard needed protecting right now.

"These charges are _false_ , and he deserves a proper investigation," said Riker.

"The investigation is over. And his DNA was found near the crime scene."

"But not on the victim's body. If he broke that man's neck, the physical evidence would be there."

"With all due respect Commander, you don't have access to the full evidence...all you saw was an interrogation vid."

"But I'm right, aren't I? All you have is evidence putting him near the crime scene."

"And we have him lying once about having never met Havra Lander, and a second time when he lied about having never been in that alley. If he's not guilty, why did he lie?"

"He told you he didn't remember!"

"Then his memory is very selective."

"It is possible he is telling the truth," Troi interjected quietly. "I have been sensing that he is not himself lately."

"Of course he's not acting as he normally would, he's been accused of killing someone. Look...I can assure both of you that captain Picard will be afforded the same due process as anyone else."

"I am having difficulty reading his emotions" said Deanna trying to concentrate. "If I had to guess I would say he is under the influence of an outside force."

"You mean a substance," corrected Logan.

Troi shook her head. "I don't exactly know. But he seems hyper focused on something to the point of neglecting all other considerations."

"Could it be that artifact, Deanna?" Riker asked quietly. "If so, we need to get it away from him."

Logan turned his head sharply to look at Will. "What artifact?"

Troi glanced at Riker before continuing. "Captain Picard found a small artifact down on Risa. He has been studying it ever since."

Logan pointed at them both accusingly. "How long have you known about this?"

"Archaeology is a personal interest of the Captain's...a hobby. What he found on his vacation was his business," snapped Riker. "Unless and until it presents a threat to the captain or this crew," he added.

"And you're assuming this artifact is the source of his strange behavior."

"I didn't say he was behaving strangely," objected Troi. "I _said_ -"

"I heard what you said, counselor. But surely a fixation like the one you're describing could motivate him to murder someone."

"Wait a minute", Riker demanded, stopping just short of pounding his fist on the table. "We didn't say a damn thing about-"

"You did say he found this object..." Logan interrupted coolly. "But no one witnessed him doing so?"

Riker rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "Not that I know of."

"Lander was an art dealer, who was probably connected somehow to this so called artifact. Either Picard killed him to obtain the artifact, or because Lander tried to take it from him."

Riker shook his head and stood up, followed by Troi. "I think we're done here," he said angrily.

Logan stood up. "You're right...we are." He tapped his communicator. "This is Logan. Arrest Captain Picard and bring him to my ship."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Jean-Luc considered his options for escape and found there were few available. "Computer, beam me into shuttle bay 2, emergency site to site transport."

 _Emergency transport has been disabled from your location, pursuant to Security Order 219._

"Damn."

He slung the pack over his shoulder and walked over and leaned his head against the door. There had to be a way. His brain felt cloudy, and his thoughts were dominated by how he could escape the confines of this ship and get to the Daystrom Institute. He blinked and thought of Beverly. She would be beaming down to the Altarus colony to investigate the viral outbreak. He would not be able to say goodbye. What would he even say to her? When he closed his eyes again, he saw the figure, and his thoughts cleared as the Leader spoke to him. _You must act without regard to your personal safety or comfort. You must endure until the end. Take the piece of blade from your pocket and place it against the obstruction. If you are able to endure, you will escape your captors._

He took the artifact from his pocket and placed it against the middle of the door, his palm flat. Before his eyes the dull metal began to glow red. As it seemed to sear into his hand, he screamed in agony and his vision blacked out. When he awoke, he was laying face up on the deck outside his quarters. The door was half gone, melted it seemed. His left hand felt as if it were molten lead, and when he turned to look at it, he saw that the guard lay next to him, unconscious or dead. A bright multicolored swirl of energy floated above the guard. Suddenly unaware of what had happened to him, and what he was doing, he reached out with his bloody hand, to try and intervene.

"Leave him alone," he gasped, trying to crawl toward the guard. His hand fell uselessly on the guard's chest. The man was not breathing. The energy cloud suddenly turned in his direction and coalesced into a glowing skeletal form. As it rose to it's full height, the empty sockets of the skull seemed to focus in on his face, mesmerizing him, paralyzing him, before it dove at him slamming into his chest and dropping him to the deck again.

His thoughts now clear and focused again, he got to his feet and tucked his wounded hand under his right armpit to apply pressure. Stepping over the dead guard, he spoke to the computer. "Emergency transport from my location, to shuttle bay 2." The transporter beam took him in an instant, and he was in the secondary shuttle bay.

* * *

"Sir?" The engineering technician walked cautiously toward Captain Picard. "Can I help you?" When he drew closer, he could see that the captain must have been wounded. "Do you need medical aid?"

Picard raised his good hand with a phaser, pointing it at the tech. "Get out of here," he rasped, gesturing toward the entryway. "Get out," he repeated.

"Sir, you can't-"

"I will shoot you!" Picard abruptly shouted.

The tech backpedaled out of the bay. Picard rushed to the control panel, aware that the tech had already sounded an alarm. With no time to spare he set the shuttle bay doors to lower in 45 seconds, with shield deactivation. Hearing boots outside of the bay, he raced toward the only warp capable vessel in the small bay, a utility runabout.

* * *

Riker and Troi stepped out of the conference room, watching as Chief Logan quickly departed the bridge.

The lights were now blinking yellow. "Why is the perimeter alert on?" Riker demanded.

Data was still seated at the command center, and was typing into the Captain's control panel. "Commander, there have been several new developments in just the last 45 seconds. The perimeter alert is on because we have credible information to support that there are cloaked Romulan vessels in orbit." He finally looked up at Riker and Troi, who now stood next to him. "In addition, it appears the viral outbreak we have been deployed to investigate was, for lack of a better word, a hoax."

"Incoming message from the _USS Drew_ , Commander," Wesley reported from ops. Data stood up and replaced the ensign as Riker sat down in the command center.

"On screen."

Riker smiled reflexively. "Captain Charles."

Danita Charles returned his smile, but it was slightly restrained. _"Will,"_ she greeted him more informally, acknowledging their long friendship. They had been friends and school classmates at the Academy, and she had risen through the ranks quickly, and was already considered to be a brilliant negotiator. " _Commander, have you heard from your medical team down on the Altarus colony?"_

He shook his head. "They were just deployed twenty minutes ago. Doctor Crusher is scheduled to check in after one hour."

 _"I suggest you make contact as soon as possible, Will. Our team is already back on board. They beamed down to the Faban Colony and were greeted by two Romulan Centurions, who questioned them at gunpoint about the Enterprise and Captain Picard. Of course, our people didn't give them anything useful. The Romulans then beamed up to their obviously cloaked ship and we haven't been able to detect them since. We're still in orbit, and the colony checks out clean. No virus whatsoever. The whole thing was a ruse, that we're guessing was perpetrated by the Romulans."_

"Anyone harmed?"

 _"The colonists were fine, just confused and a bit shaken. They know enough to be aware that Romulans are not supposed to be crossing the Neutral Zone into Federation space."_

 _Why were the Romulans asking about the Enterprise?_ "Have you contacted Command?"

At this, Charles looked completely irritated. " _All information has been transmitted to them, but there's been no response as yet. As you know, we're in a tenuous situation here. A Romulan incursion would be an act of war, unless..."_

"Unless they provided notice to the Federation beforehand and we were just never informed."

 _"Right,"_ said Captain Charles. " _I'd like to meet up, and confer with you and Captain Picard, but I think we need to stay in orbit until we can be assured the sector is cleared of Romulans."_

"Agreed," said Riker. "Be safe Danita."

 _"You as well. Charles out."_

* * *

 _"Logan to Riker,_ " came a clearly irate voice over the communications link.

Riker sighed. What now? "Riker here, go ahead."

" _Picard has escaped, and he's severely injured the guard outside his quarters. We think he's taking a shuttle-_ "

Riker jumped out of his seat. "Report!"

Data turned from his post. "Runabout 661A has exited shuttle bay two, Commander."

Riker pointed at the view screen, which now showed a small runabout powering up its impulse engines. "Get a tractor beam on that ship before he-"

"Runabout has entered warp, Commander," Wesley confirmed, as the screen flashed white.

Riker turned around slowly to look at Troi who looked as stunned as he felt. Few times in his life had he felt so helpless.

* * *

Riker ran a hand through his hair and tried to focus on the most pressing matter at hand, remembering Danita Charles's warning. He could feel Troi's mind focused on his, trying to keep him steady, and for that at least, he was grateful. "Riker to Crusher."

There was a long pause, before a voice, decidedly not Beverly's answered on her transmission code.

" _Commander Riker...this is Commander Tomalak of the Romulan Empire. You are surrounded by three very powerful war birds. And Doctor Crusher is alive. Whether she remains well, is mainly up to you."_

"Tomalak, your very presence here is an act of war. But imprisoning colonists and kidnapping my officers? Now you're just making this personal."

 _"Where is captain Picard?"_ Came the cool reply.

"This is the second time in less than a year that you have violated the treaty that protects the neutral zone from incursion by either side. What are you doing here in Federation space?"

 _"My business is with Picard._ "

"Your business is with me," Riker corrected him.

 _"I wish to speak to your Captain-"_

"Then you're out of luck. He's not available."

 _"Not available, or perhaps... an active fugitive from so-called Federation justice?"_

Riker remained silent. Had Tomalak's ship informed him that a runabout had just sped off from the Enterprise, or was he simply guessing? Either way, how did he know so much about Picard's situation?

 _"You must think fast Commander, before we are all imperiled by his actions."_

"I don't know what nonsense you're talking about, but you had better let my officers go, Commander Tomalak, or you will regret your actions."

 _"What would you say commander if I told you our interests in this matter are not divergent?"_

"I would ask you for an explanation..."

" _Picard is aiding and abetting a terrorist group known to our society. And more importantly he is carrying a component of a weapon capable of mass murder."_

 _The artifact._ "Not that I have any reason to believe you...but let's say that was all true. What was your intent by luring us here and then threatening us with violence?"

 _"Why to obtain this murderous weapon of course..."_

 _"_ And?"

 _"And to neutralize it...and the terrorists who intend us harm."_

"Who are these terrorists and what exactly is this weapon?"

 _"So far, Commander Riker, I have provided all of the information during this conversation, while you have provided nothing. Are you trying to cause me to lose face in front of my subordinates?"_ He thought he heard laughter in the background.

Riker shifted his stance again. "Return our people and leave the colonists unharmed."

 _"Again. Where is Picard?"_

"He's gone," Riker finally admitted.

Tomalak paused. " _How is he traveling?"_

"Not on foot."

" _A human quip no doubt. You find situations of life and death to be entertaining," Tomalak observed. "However, I think you will find that our sanctimonious cousins on Vulcan will not find their dilemma so amusing."_

"What dilemma?"

 _"I have reliable information that your captain will eventually travel to Vulcan. When he does, my dear ancestral land will be at risk of destruction. The next step will be an attack on my people, which I simply cannot permit."_

"You are telling us we have to stop him from reaching Vulcan?"

 _"Rest assured if you do not stop him, we will."_

"I don't want anymore threats, Tomalak. I want confirmation that within 20 minutes you have left the colony and exited Federation space. And if all of my medical teams are not returned within 10 minutes, I'll beam down to sort this out with you directly."

* * *

Tomalak turned to Beverly. "I would have a word with you, doctor."

Worf sidled in front of Crusher. "You heard Commander Riker. We are beaming back to our ship, and you are exiting this system without further delay."

Tomalak smiled thinly. "Oh, no doubt, you are free to return to your ship, however the information I have to share may be of benefit."

Worf looked at Beverly, who nodded at him, then returned her guarded look of suspicion to the Romulan commander.

"Fine," Worf growled. "But I must be present."

Tomalak's expression remained the same, but his eyes were hard. "I will speak to Doctor Crusher alone...or not at all."

Beverly glanced up at the security chief. "I'll be fine, lieutenant. Just give us five minutes."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Federation Colonies on the border of the Romulan Neutral Zone**

Worf was still obviously alarmed by this turn of events, but conceded silently, glaring as Beverly and Tomalak walked away toward an empty mess hall. Beverly realized for the first time, as Tomalak opened the door, and stood aside with apparent politeness that with the exception of centurion Bochra who had been near death in her sickbay just months ago, she had never been alone with a Romulan person before. She felt a real sense of fear, but realized it was less about her particular predicament, and more about her fear of what was happening to Jean-Luc at that moment. Riker had told Tomalak that Picard was not on board the Enterprise, but surely that wasn't true. Unless he'd been taken into custody by security already. The very thought of not saying goodbye to him left her cold and angry.

Tomalak gestured for her to sit down at a communal table, and then sat down slowly across from her. His bushy eyebrows knitted together. "You are quite brave to accompany me alone. On my world I am known as a...moderate. However, to humans I may appear more extreme. However, all of my actions have purpose."

Tomalak's voice sounded smooth and controlled, while Beverly's voice sounded small to her own ears. Still she faced him squarely. "What do you want?"

"Jean-Luc Picard is likely not in control of his actions. His only aim is to carry out the will of someone else."

"Who?" she whispered.

"There are theories," he said cryptically. "Because I am not a religious person, I tend to be skeptical of most of the stories promoted by the spiritualists. However, one such theory, proposed by a certain group of dangerous fanatics, is that a long dead cleric and rival of the famed Surak will rise again, and bring an end to the rule of logic on Vulcan."

"I don't understand...what does this have to do with Captain Picard?"

Tomalak glared at her. "Whatever his motivation, he has fallen in league with terrorists in our society who promote a return of our people to Vulcan-one that is certain to cause bloodshed. He intends to unleash a weapon upon Vulcan, which can only mean the slaughter of countless innocents... "

"That's what you told Riker," she said slowly, trying to determine whether he was being honest or not. She admitted to herself she had no idea.

"These terrorists believe that the only way back to our ancestral land is through violence. There are some who say that Picard is just one of hundreds who came before him who will manifest that end."

Beverly found her voice again. "He would never knowingly aid people like that. I don't know where you are getting your information from, but it's wrong."

"The rumor is that he found a so called artifact down on a tourist planet."

Her skin went cold. "Are you saying that is the weapon?"

"It is certainly not a harmless piece of _art._ "

"Well what can I do to help him?"

"Ultimately this is a Romulan matter, and must be resolved by Romulans. But as far as finding and bringing the object back, you have the advantage. Convince Riker to cooperate with me."

"What exactly are you asking me to do? Work for you? I'm a Starfleet officer!"

He leaned in confidentially. "I am requesting prudence. I am completely capable of provoking a war...but so far I have not. I am much more interested in maintaining order in my own society, than staging a war with the Federation. The terrorists must be destroyed."

"How do I know you won't use this weapon for your own ends? To kill these terrorists?"

He smiled. "Find Picard, and bring him to us alive. We are completely capable of separating him from this weapon-without causing him further harm. But if he reaches Vulcan it will be too late. If that happens, Doctor, you will have a galactic war on your hands." He stood up stiffly looking down at her with an imperious but amused gaze. "Now... you must hurry back to your ship, so as to not upset Mr. Riker."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Beverly, but he's left the sector." Will Riker sat at Picard's ready room desk, and looked up as Crusher stormed into the office. She was dusty and disheveled from her brief trip down to the colony, but hadn't wasted any time getting up to the bridge.

"Left..." She stopped short. "I heard you tell Tomalak he was gone...but I thought-I thought you were lying."

Riker steepled his fingers together. "Sadly, no. He escaped in a runabout a little while ago."

"Well...go after him!"

"We are," said a calm voice behind her. She turned to find a blonde-haired man with cold blue eyes and a security badge watching her inquisitively. The man stepped forward through the doorway, and then stood very still, continuing to watch her.

"Who are you?" she demanded after spinning around to face him.

He smiled briefly. "Adam Logan, Starfleet Security. And you must be Doctor Crusher."

"Yes." Her gaze flicked over to Riker, who looked very uncomfortable.

"Doctor, by now, as you can imagine, we know where Captain Picard is headed," said Logan. "But... given your relationship to him, we'd like to ask you some questions about why, exactly he is on his way to the Daystrom Institute, and what he plans to do there."

"What are you going to do to him when you find him?" she demanded.

Logan smiled and gestured for her to sit down. "As I just said, we know where he's going, and I've already dispatched security teams to Daystrom for the purpose of arresting him for murder. Now, your cooperation could make this go much easier for him."

"He didn't murder anyone," she objected, but found herself sitting down on the couch anyway as she glared defiantly up at him.

Logan sat down as well, and glanced at Riker. "You sound very certain of that Doctor, and yet you weren't with him at the time of the murder. Unless you'd like to clarify your original statement..."

"Have you ruled out all other suspects? The real killer could be roaming the galaxy, and you're here."

"Are you questioning my investigation, Doctor?" He glanced at Riker.

Riker rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. "You are to cooperate fully with Mr. Logan, Doctor."

"Listen, Will, I have no intention of helping him convict Captain Picard!"

"Beverly, if he's in danger with this artifact, we need to help him before he hurts someone else."

"What? What do you mean?"

"One of our security officers is in intensive care. He wasn't breathing when we found him outside the Captain's quarters, Beverly. And we found the Captain's blood as well. His door was literally melted from the inside out. So, we need you to help us help him," Riker said as gently as possible. "What can we expect when we find him at Daystrom?"

She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and looked down. "I-I don't know."

"You don't know, or you don't _want_ to know?" asked Logan.

Beverly glanced up sharply. "I arranged a meeting for him with Professor Emil Duchamps...he's an expert archaeologist at Daystrom."

"We know...we confirmed the appointment with Daystrom security. I spoke with Duchamps personally," said Logan. "They're expecting him tomorrow morning."

"You've set up a trap already," Beverly accused. "And so what exactly do you need from me?"

"We want to avoid additional violence," Riker said. "We're taking the Enterprise to Daystrom. If you and I are there...well, I'm hoping that he will be more cooperative."

"Did he say anything to you about the artifact?" Logan pressed.

She gave a small shrug. "He didn't know much yet. He did say he thought it was of Vulcan or early Romulan origin." Logan somehow didn't appear surprised.

"Thank you, Doctor," the man said getting to his feet smoothly. He turned before leaving. "Your anticipated cooperation is appreciated."

* * *

Riker exhaled and leaned back into his chair, when Logan exited. When he opened his eyes, Beverly was staring at him with a look of barely masked betrayal. He raised his palms. "What would you have me do? Trust me, I can't stand that guy either."

"You _know_ he's not guilty of this, Will."

"Do I?" he challenged. "I thought I did...but those interrogation tapes along with the circumstantial evidence are pretty damning, Beverly." He got up and walked to the replicator. "Coffee." He glanced at her. "Want one?"

She shook her head and then dropped it briefly into her hands. "No, caffeine is the last thing I need right now. My mind is absolutely racing."

He walked back and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry for all of this. But only so much is within our control. And if that artifact is somehow guiding his actions, we don't know what Captain Picard is capable of."

She lifted her chin stubbornly. "You're just not going to be able to convince me that he did this, Will. And nearly killing one of his own crew? Unthinkable!"

Riker sighed. "I'm not trying to convince you that he's guilty. But I can't do this without you. Would you rather Logan do this without us? He's all ego. I wouldn't trust him to handle the Captain with the respect he deserves. At least we can give him that."

She stared at the deck, and bit her bottom lip. "I need to tell you something Will...it's about Tomalak." She looked up at him and began to recount the story the Romulan Commander had told her.

* * *

He jerked awake, and nearly fell out of the pilot's seat. Luckily for him the runabout was on auto to his programmed destination, and the computer had no need for his guidance. "Computer, how long until we reach the Daystrom Institute?" he asked groggily.

 _Four hours, sir._

He stretched his arms as he stood up, and was reminded immediately that his left hand was injured, as liquid fire began in his palm and seared through his entire arm. Dizzily, he staggered to the med station on the wall, and pulled out some medications. Finding a bandage, he carefully wrapped his hand, breaking out in a sweat just through that process. He took his temperature, which read 102 fahrenheit. He drank some water and then fumbled through his bag clumsily. He pulled out a small volume of Vulcan archeological essays.

Sitting back down, he was somehow not surprised that he was now able to read the original version written in the old Vulcan language. His grasp of the Vulcan language prior to this had been minimal at best, and yet now, it seemed second nature to him. "It was an age of fire and division," he read out loud to himself. "Powerful weapons attacked the minds and bodies of millions, laying waste to entire swaths of land, destroying cities and souls. From this a desert within a desert formed. It was long taught that only Surak with his mastery of the irrational fevers of the mind was able to cross this expanse and live. But there was another. Somewhere beneath the Vulcan's anvil lies his tomb."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

 **Stolen Runabout-Rigel System**

He had fallen asleep again, and when he awoke the interior of the small runabout smelled like the cold sweat that covered his body. Feeling disoriented and clammy he got up and walked to the back of the ship where he knew there was a sonic shower, and made use of it. Afterwards he felt almost fifty percent better, and stood in front of the replicator for a dazed few minutes wondering how to make himself look more presentable. In less than an hour he would be at Daystrom, and one didn't enter those storied halls looking shabby. It was the Federation's most prestigious science and research institution, and he absolutely needed confirmation from an expert archaeologist before he proceeded further. He blinked a few times trying to clear his brain. Come to think of it, he hadn't thought any further ahead than his meeting with Duchamps. But he was sure that once Duchamps confirmed the origins of his find, he would be able to decide his next steps.

 _Entering the Rigel system, sir. Incoming message from the Daystrom Archaeological Council._

Frowning, he walked to a wall panel. "On screen."

The face that blinked onto the screen was very familiar, if not quite as he remembered. The raven hair of Emil Duchamps' youth had gone mostly grey. A perfectly manicured beard framed his still handsome face. "Professor," Picard greeted the man with a professional nod. "I am on my way to see you, and can assure you that I will be there on time."

"Jean-Luc...may I still call you that, or do you adhere to military formalities at all times?"

 _He still hates me._ "Jean-Luc is fine," he said with a forced smile.

"Funny you should put it that way, because I was going to ask you...are you well?'

Something like doubt made him hesitate. "Yes, I am fine," he said evenly.

"Good. Well, I'm sorry for the short notice, but something has come up."

A feeling of nausea knifed through his gut. "Oh?"

"I've been called to fill in as a speaker at the quarterly archaeology conference this afternoon, and can't possibly see you until afterwards."

"But-"

"I'm sorry, Jean-Luc, I know you've come a long way to see me."

He rubbed his forehead. "It's fine, I just...it's fine. Where and when shall I meet you then?"

Duchamps blinked. "Come and attend the conference, I'll arrange a seat for you at the luncheon. Once I'm done speaking, I'll meet you in the corridor at junction A."

"How can you possibly examine it in a dark corridor, Emil? I want you to have a chance to thoroughly identify this-"

"And I _will._ Look...leave the artifact with my assistant this morning, and I'll examine it and give it back to you after the conference."

"You just said you didn't have time to meet with me..."

Duchamps looked away and his expression was harder, more arrogant when he faced the screen again. "You still argue every point, don't you? Look, Picard...what exactly if anything do you _know_ about this artifact?"

"It's of Vulcan ore. A piece of a bladed weapon I believe, possibly 4th century."

Duchamps' eyes flashed with curiosity. "Beverly Crusher told me it was Romulan, when she called."

"Yes, well, I may have been unsure when I first spoke with her about its origins."

Duchamps smiled thinly. "You're lucky she called me. She's an old friend."

"I'm an old friend as well, Emil. Don't you remember?"

The professor laughed. "Oh, yes...I remember." He leaned in. "I heard your ship had a run in with Dr. Manheim a few years ago. He always was reckless with his work to the point of obsession. But I have to say, I'm glad to have learned Jenice ended up with someone who was at least smarter than me. I'm sure you feel the same. How is she these days?"

He felt an irritating heat rising to his neck, but kept his expression calm. "She seemed well."

"Do you have any idea how inconsolable she was when you ran off to Starfleet all those years ago?"

"Ran off! It was my career, Emil. Surely you of all people understand something about ambition..."

"She wouldn't talk to anyone for days. Not even me."

"Jenice and I have made our peace with this, Emil. I apologized for my actions. That's all you need to know."

"Fine. It seems as though you have moved on."

"Emil we were teenagers. I apologized to you years ago. Can we let this go?"

"I've given you a meeting, haven't I? Leave the piece with my assistant and I'll see this afternoon, Jean-Luc."

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

Beverly paced around her quarters. She'd been summoned to the bridge by Riker for yet another meeting, but they would reach the Daystrom in less than two hours, and she had an important call to make. But the call hadn't gone as well as she had wished, and now, she couldn't escape the reality that she would be helping to trap Jean-Luc. Finally she stopped pacing in front of the small view screen. "There has to be another way, Emil."

"I'm sorry, Beverly. Starfleet security already contacted me. It's out of my control."

"I don't believe that for a second, Emil. A person with your kind of influence? Besides, Jean-Luc is your friend!"

Emil Duchamps gave his friend a tight smile. "I did what I could to set this up so that he won't be embarrassed, Beverly. I know him and his pride."

" _Embarrassed?_ He could be sentenced to life of incarceration for a crime he didn't commit! Is that really what you want?"

"Beverly, you are in denial. Jean-Luc is mixed up in something you don't truly understand. And if I were you, I would take a step back and open your eyes."

* * *

 **A few minutes later...**

"Thank you for researching this, Data," Riker said, taking the data pad as the android moved back to his seat.

"Of course, sir."

Riker looked around the table at the rest of his command officers. "Mr. Data is going to give us a briefing this morning. Put simply, this afternoon we will be participating in the arrest of Captain Picard, and I know that... that is almost incomprehensible. But I value and truly need your cooperation right now." The officers remained silent, only staring vacantly back at him. They were in shock, just as he was. He should have been defiant, and defending Picard, but instead his mind was filled with doubt.

"And there are other developments," he continued. "The Romulans are somehow involved in this, and have presented us with some interesting information, which is what Mr. Data is going to discuss. Data?"

"Based on Doctor Crusher's report of her meeting with Romulan Commander Tomalak, I researched Tomalak's description of what he termed terrorist elements within Romulan society. Very little is known about modern Romulan culture outside of its military forces. However I was able to find some declassified reports from two Federation spies who infiltrated Romulan society within the last decade."

"We actually sent spies to Romulus?" LaForge looked skeptical.

"Only one operative survived the experience," clarified Data. "But the reports she transmitted back to Headquarters provide a picture of Romulan society that is quite nuanced and complex. Those reports describe a growing divide between authoritarian traditionalists, who have sought increased isolationism, moderate Romulans who seek expansion into Federation territory through military action and eventual trade, and a smaller group of so-called extremists who advocate the elimination of any remaining vestiges of Vulcan culture within Romulan society."

"The Romulans have no honor," offered Worf. "I am not surprised they would reject the only honorable aspects of their history."

"Now, wait a moment, Worf," said Troi. "The Romulans are very proud. I would hardly say they lack honor..."

"That is your opinion," Worf shot back.

"So these so-called extremists-are these the terrorists Tomalak was telling me about?" Beverly asked Data. She had been staring out of the view port, half listening to the conversation.

"That is very likely. As Tomalak noted, he is opposed to the extremists, which is corroborated but the intelligence reports."

"He actually said he was a moderate, but that to us he might seem more extreme. He's hard to figure out," said Beverly. "It's almost as if he is speaking in code."

"Maybe he is," said Troi. "Maybe he is unsure of how much information he can safely send our way. Romulan society is quite restrictive by our standards. There is no such thing as free speech."

"Yes, but everything he's done has been out in the open-there's no way his superiors aren't aware of his antics down on our colonies," said LaForge. "Anyway, what is the connection between the Romulans and what is happening to the Captain? If he's being accused of something he didn't do, we need to help him...but how?"

"Tomalak asserts that Captain Picard is working with the extremist elements of Romulan society, to try and bring some kind of weapon of mass destruction to Vulcan."

Beverly crossed her arms and glared at Data. Even though she knew he was merely repeating words she had told him, she still couldn't fathom how all of this had happened, and how it had happened so quickly. "Tomalak wants us to find the Captain before he does. He threatened that if we don't stop Captain Picard and bring Tomalak the artifact, we'll find ourselves at war."

"My concern is that he's proven before that we can't trust him," Will said. "If it's true that this artifact the captain is carrying is a weapon, how do we know Tomalak doesn't intend to use it against us?"

* * *

 **Romulan Warbird Tavix-edge of Neutral Zone**

Commander Tomalak stared up into the hologram floating above his private study. Tiny ships raced around a miniature battlefield. He knew each pass by heart, and had even memorized the audio narration, so much so that he had muted it, as he watched. "Just over a century ago marks the last notable military engagement between the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation..." He murmured. "Romulan Commander Darnak faced down the treacherous but worthy Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise 1701...Darnak's warbird was destroyed, but his family rejoiced in his stalwart defense of Romulus." He frowned, as the hologram unexpectedly skipped, and the tiny battle shimmered and disappeared.

Irritated, but by nature slow to anger, Tomalak spun his chair around to stare out of the port. His hand hovered over the communications link. "Report," he ordered.

"Power surge, Commander," came the engineer's reply. "We are running those propulsion tests you asked for."

"I want actual performance TuVal...the testing is over. Get me level five propulsion. Anything over and we risk detection. I want complete cloaking during our journey."

"Yes Commander. Are we heading for glory?"

"TuVal we are headed for Federation territory. What we find there remains to be seen." He swiped his hand, cutting the link, just as a new call came through. He hesitated to answer, putting off the inevitable. He had to hold back the sneer that came naturally upon seeing the fat face on the view screen. Just as Senator Pardek's pinched expression appeared on screen, Tomalak's holographic battle scene reappeared behind him. Constantly aware of the need to save face, Tomalak didn't bother to hide it. Nevertheless, Pardek jumped at the chance to insult him.

"Play time, Commander? I'd heard of your peculiar fascination with all things Federation, but I'm surprised at the lack of shame at such an odd hobby."

"Spend sixty cycles out in the depths of space like I have, and see what hobbies you pick up, my fat friend," shot back Tomalak. "Something you would not be familiar with, lounging and plotting in your comfortable senate seat."

"Now now, I am most certainly fat, but friend to you, I am not," said Pardek. "But your point is taken, Tomalak. You are a sad, lonely man, driven by ambition, yet never able to fulfill-"

"What do you _want_?"

"I want to know your progress in retrieving the blade from Picard. Is that plain enough for you?"

"I will retrieve the blade, as I said I would."

"Have you captured Picard yet?"

"In due time."

Pardek laughed. "In due time? Your daughter has a death sentence hanging over her head for her...illegal activities. If she is to live, or die without shame, you will deliver this weapon to me in three days. That is your due time, Tomalak. Think about how your storied career would end in ashes, if your daughter were revealed to be the terrorist criminal that she is."

* * *

 **Daystrom Institute Approximately 1pm**

Jean-Luc took a sip from his glass of water, glancing around him at the hall full of conference attendees. The conference was a somewhat lavish affair, and the room was filled with long tables covered in elegant white table cloths, and exotic foods. But Captain Picard was not hungry. He had yawned through the first two speakers, and now after a networking break, the other attendees who had been milling around, were now heading back to their seats. Professor Duchamps was up next, and he just entered the conference hall, stopping to shake a few hands before taking the stage to polite applause.

All Jean-Luc could think at that moment, was that he had reluctantly left the artifact with Duchamps' assistant that morning, as agreed, and he wondered what she had done with it. As he briefly locked eyes with Emil Duchamps for the first time in years, he saw a look of recognition in the mans eyes turn quickly to shock. He glanced down at the grey civilian business suit he had replicated with some difficulty, not often out of uniform and in a formal setting. Did he look a mess? Vaguely it mattered to him, but not really. The only thing that mattered was hearing from Duchamps, and getting the artifact back into his possession. Now self-conscious about his appearance, he became dimly aware that his left hand was stuck on the tablecloth. Glancing down, his stomach roiled at the sight of a pool of congealed blood underneath his palm. Had Duchamps seen? Feeling faint, he pulled his hand away and placed it under the table, moving a nearby napkin to cover the crimson stain. He glanced around anxiously, but all eyes were on the speaker. Rubbing his eyes with his good hand, he pulled his chair forward, making a concerted effort to sit up straighter.

"I'd like to talk today about the method...we scientists must protect the tried and true processes by which we advance in our respective fields. We have the benefit of many cultures and points of view at this wonderful institution, and yet that variety must be balanced with consistency." There was a murmur of assent through the crowd.

Jean-Luc tried to focus, taking another shaky sip of water. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a gold and black uniform move quickly through the crowded room, but when he fully turned his head in that direction, all he saw were civilians and the occasional blue and black uniform of Starfleet science personnel. that made him think of Beverly. He wondered if she was angry at him. He really couldn't blame her if that was the case. But he felt as though he were inside of a dream, only partially able to control his own actions and the outcome. Until he finished moving his way through the dream, he could not return to his normal wakeful state of being.

"Take this little object," Duchamps was saying, and to Picard's immense anxiety, Duchamps pulled the artifact out of his pocket, and held it up for the audience to see. "Something like this can inspire fascination...even obsession in the untrained mind."

The restrained laughter around him sounded almost thunderous, as the blood rushed in his ears.

"But as a scientist I have the training and the duty to keep a clear head," Duchamps continued. "To perform my due diligence until I have properly identified this item. Of course, it only took me about an hour to determine this was a fake..." more laughter, even louder now, seemed to press into his skull.

Picard found himself gripping the knife that had lain so neatly on his folded napkin. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath. Wrapping his fingers around the handle of the knife, he stared down Professor Duchamps, as sweat rolled maddeningly down his back. But the professor didn't look his way. Another deliberate slight. How humiliating, and Duchamps had probably planned it all from the start. He slid the knife into the inner pocket of his suit, just as he felt a cool hand drop onto his shoulder. He jumped, and looked up to find Beverly Crusher staring down at him.

There was a look of fear in her eyes. Not of him, but for him. Something was going on. Why was she here? She tightened the grip on his shoulder. "May I sit down here, Captain?" she asked in a low voice, with a nervous smile pasted on her face. Swallowing, but unable to say a word, he felt the knife grow warm against his skin, and nodded silently in agreement. She left go of his shoulder and sat down slowly next to him. Turning to look at him squarely she said, "we really need to talk."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Deputy Chief of Starfleet Security Adam Logan was beginning to question his well thought out plans. He silently watched the screen in the main security room at Daystrom, as Beverly Crusher made her way into the conference room at which Emil Duchamps was currently speaking. He leaned in closer to the monitor just as she steered toward Picard, who was sitting alone at a table not far from the stage. The man was hunched over, periodically glancing up at the speaker, an old friend of his. Logan could see Picard bouncing his leg in a nervous manner beneath the table.

"Look at him...he looks like he's about to snap, but look at his posture...he's definitely injured."

"That's why it's imperative that he not be harmed further," Will Riker said from behind him. "He needs medical care."

"We'll do what we can," said Logan, not bothering to turn around. "But he needs to cooperate. Anyone in that room is a potential target for him, if they disrupt his plans." Logan straightened and turned to Riker squarely, but the taller man was unmoved.

Riker managed, to bury most of his anger, but his tone was still sharp. "And what exactly do you think his plans are?"

Logan smiled coldly. "I think he wants to escape...I think he's fallen in with the wrong people, whom he believes he is serving. And I believe he's on his way to Vulcan, just like the Romulan said."

"Why? Does Starfleet Command really believe that tiny artifact is a weapon?"

"You saw the doorway to his quarters, Commander. Melted alloy. How do you think he managed that?"

Riker fell silent for a moment. "Tomalak told Beverly to return Captain Picard to him alive."

"Well...there is no way that we intend to hand Picard over to our sworn enemies."

Riker shook his head. "And what exactly do you want out of this, Logan?"

Again the cold smile. "Why to see a murderer brought to justice, Riker."

 _Right._ "Captain Picard isn't the type to fall in with the wrong people-are you saying he is working with these...these Romulan terrorists?"

"Yes."

"Based on what evidence? The word of a Romulan Commander who has done nothing but deceive us at every encounter?" Riker knew he was raising his voice, and told himself to calm down. "Listen...just let me talk to him. I know that I can help him to see reason, and he'll come back peacefully-"

"It's too late for that, Riker. He's already killed one person and gravely wounded another. "

"Those are unproven accusations."

"Even so, all precautions must be taken."

"And so you convinced Doctor Crusher to go and talk to him? If he's so dangerous, why take a risk like that. You know I didn't want her involved in this, and you-"

He was cut off when Worf walked into the room. "All turbo lifts on the second floor of this facility have been secured," Worf reported. "In addition, the Captain will be unable to escape using any utility tunnels, as we have security posted at each juncture."

"Good," Logan said simply. He glanced at Worf. "Glad to see at least one of you realizes the gravity of the situation."

Riker lifted his chin, but said nothing. Logan was getting his marching orders from Command, so there was little point in fighting with him on this.

Worf glanced at Riker, and then addressed Logan. "Daystrom's administrator is complaining. She demands to know why her facility is being overrun by 'security thugs'."

"Well if all goes well and he's brought into custody with no trouble, she may never actually know. As long as Crusher carries out her end of this, that is." Logan fixed the Enterprise officers with a probing expression. "Can she be trusted?"

"You should have thought of that before you hatched this plan," Riker replied.

* * *

Professor Emil Duchamps was still speaking, and had made another remark that had caused the audience to break out in laughter again. Captain Picard shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and glanced at Beverly. "Beverly, you shouldn't be here," he said in a hushed voice.

"Why not?" she asked him quietly. He didn't answer, and only turned his attention back to glare at Duchamps. Deputy Logan had prepped her thoroughly, telling her that Duchamps was now in possession of the artifact, and was cooperating with Starfleet Security. After his speech, Duchamps would meet Picard at junction A of the main corridor, as the two men had agreed, at which point Picard would expect to receive the artifact back. A contingent of security personnel would be waiting there to take him into custody. " _Why don't you send a security team to retrieve the artifact from Emil? That way there will be no chance for the Captain to get it back?"_ she had asked. " _And if he's really so obsessed with the artifact, aren't you afraid it will just motivate him to harm Emil?"_

 _"His motivation is what we're counting on, Doctor."_

 _"I don't like it...it's not safe for Jean-Luc, and it's not safe for Emil."_

 _"My people will take care of that. Now, you're the only one who can safely get close enough to him. He won't hurt you,"_ Logan had assured her.

 _"Of course he won't hurt me,"_ she had snapped back at him.

" _Just give him the sedative and then let him go."_

" _What kind of sedative? I don't want him to be injured further."_

 _"You choose the one you think is safest, Doctor. As long as he is slowed down enough for us to capture him without violence, we can do our jobs."_

" _Which, remind me again is what?"_

 _"He's been charged with the wrongful death of that Risan, Doctor...the fact that I would have to remind you of the importance of bringing Captain Picard in is very strange. And given that he is responsible for nearly killing one of your crew members-"_

 _"I don't believe that for a second."_

 _"Once again...all evidence points to Picard, and no one believes he could possibly do such a thing."_

 _"That's because we know him,"_ said Beverly. She got to her feet. _"You're wrong about him...and once he is able to defend himself against these charges, he will prove them false."_

Logan had looked up at her with a manufactured smile. _"Just follow through with what we are asking of you, Doctor. Riker assures me that you won't let your feelings get in the way. For Picard's sake, I hope that is the case."_

* * *

 _S_ he clenched her fist around the hypo spray she held in her palm when she saw the scarlet stain on the table cloth next to him, sloppily covered by a napkin. She observed the beaded sweat on his forehead and did her best to assess his condition without being obvious. Feverish, he was pale and disheveled despite his attempt to dress in a civilian business suit. The door to his quarters had been melted for lack of a better term for it, permitting his escape. In the process he must have sustained a serious injury to his hand, which was probably infected.

The room full of scientists was oblivious to their conversation. Anxious that time was ticking, she pulled her chair closer to him, aware that at that moment, Starfleet Security was preparing to arrest him. She'd had no choice other than to cooperate. At least this way she could convince him to turn himself in to the authorities for a fair trial. She had no doubt that he would be exonerated if he would only stop now, before there was no way to reverse the damage that had been done.

He looked at her, puzzled. "You're supposed to be in the Neutral Zone down on the Altarus colony-preventing an epidemic. Are you alright? Were you able to contain the virus?"

 _"Don't tell him anything about the Romulans,"_ Logan had warned her.

"We completed that mission," she said flatly, hoping he would not press for details. "So...now I'm here to help you."

"Help me..." he echoed vacantly. "I don't understand." He raised an eyebrow and looked at her searchingly, but his typical focus was not there. It was clear to her now that he was in some kind of trance, and perhaps shock due to his injuries. The forensics from the horrific scene outside of his quarters indicated that his DNA had been found mixed with the remnants of his door. She could see him cradling his hand underneath the table. Could he have attacked and nearly killed injured Ensign Perry? She still could not wrap her mind around the idea.

Picard turned back to stare at Emil Duchamps, who was winding up his speech. _It won't be long now._ He just had to meet Duchamps and then he could be on his way. He was beginning to see exactly where he had to go. It was so obvious...why had it taken him so long to realize he needed to travel to Vulcan? The ancient words echoed in his head, and now he was beginning to truly understand. But he couldn't tell Beverly, couldn't involve her. It was too dangerous. "You shouldn't be here," he repeated quietly.

"But I am...let me see your hand. I know you are injured." She moved her hand to his knee and the muscles of his thigh stiffened. She kept her hand there and could feel that his skin was feverish beneath the fabric. _There's no way I can give him a sedative...not in this condition._ She quickly grabbed a vial of an analgesic mixed with antibiotic instead and injected into his leg. She squeezed his knee, trying to attract his attention, which remained fixated on Emil. He turned his head slightly toward her. "Come back to the Enterprise with me...I miss you," she said, hearing her own voice waver.

He shook his head. "I can't. Not yet. There's something I need to take care of."

"The only thing you need to take care of right now is your health. You're not well. "

He looked at her with increasingly glassy eyes. "Can't you just give me something to make me feel better?"

"And then what? You'll keep running away from me? I don't understand this obsession with that artifact, but it's not like you."

He stared back at her blankly.

"Jean-Luc, do you even remember anything that's happened recently?"

He shook his head. "I don't understand. Remember what?"

"Ensign Perry..the security officer assigned to guard you-"

"Guard me?" he scoffed.

"Ensign Perry was severely injured outside of your quarters. Do you remember anything about that?"

He looked down at the table with a convincing expression of confusion. "No..."

She bit her lip. "Jean-Luc...look at me." She waited for him to slowly turn his head in her direction. "The Deputy Chief of Sarfleet Security has charged you with the wrongful death of that trader on Risa...and now they believe you've injured Ensign Perry as well."

There was a sudden look of alarm in his eyes. "Did you come here alone, Beverly?" His eyes flicked anxiously around the room. He thought he'd seen security personnel before. How could he have been so careless? They were chasing after him; hunting him down. Suddenly he grabbed both of her hands in his. "You need to leave...now. They will be coming for me soon. I don't want you to be involved in this."

"Whatever you've gotten mixed up in, we can get through it together. Everything that's been happening...it isn't like you."

"Do you think I killed that man on Risa?" He looked at her, but his eyes were cloudy with suspicious confusion.

She held fast to his hands, and could feel his blood on her palms. She tried to steady her breathing. "Whatever you did, I know it wasn't really you. Someone or something is controlling you!"

He suddenly jumped up, and his chair went tumbling backwards. "You're working with them! They sent you to trap me, Beverly, don't you see you are being used?"

Just then the room broke out in applause and she saw him lock eyes with Professor Duchamps who was quickly exiting the stage. Picard stepped away quickly before she could stop him. "Wait!" She called after him. Across the crowded room she saw Logan watching them , and she hurried to follow Jean-Luc.

* * *

Picard had his sights set on Professor Duchamps, as the latter made his way through the convention hall, not stopping for even quick chat with a colleague. _Good... at least there will be no delay in retreiving the artifact._

Duchamps slipped through one of the old fashioned double doors that exited the room, and Picard followed. Dimly it occurred to him that Beverly might try and follow him, but he couldn't concentrate on that possibility at the moment. He hesitated after stepping foot in the hallway. Duchamps was walking with swift measured steps up ahead, but aside from the two of them, the corridor was dead quiet. He walked after him in pursuit, trying to remind himself that he'd made a deal with Duchamps. There was no point in rushing after the man. Duchamps rounded a corner, and disappeared, causing him to panic irrationally for a moment. But when he himself rounded the bend, he saw they were at their agreed meeting place, which calmed him to a degree. But then an image, or perhaps even a memory of a still figure laying face down in an alley. He looked down at his hands. Had he killed that man on Risa?

"How did you like my speech?"

His head jerked up, as Emil Duchamp's self important voice brought him back to the present. His own voice was hoarse and sounded strange. "The artifact is anything but fake, Emil. I suppose you said it was just to put me in my place. I may not be an expert-"

"You're not even an amateur, Jean-Luc. It is a fake."

He thrust out his hand. "Then let me have it back! If it's so worthless, what are you waiting for?"

Emil patted his pocket where the artifact was hidden. "I don't think so. Do you even know what you look like right now? Desperate and obsessed over a small piece of metal."

Picard advanced on him. "You arrogant-"

Emil backpedaled, stepping out of his reach, but Picard's momentum carried him forward.. Something about Emil's half amused expression threatened to drive him into a blind fury. Duchamps wanted to keep it for himself, that was now. clear. He grabbed the professor by the front of his jacket and shook him. "Give it to me, before he takes it from you!"

Duchamps smug smile faded, as though the game was no longer any fun. "He? Who is _he_ Jean-Luc? You're in trouble, old friend, I can see that now. This isn't some harmless obsession."

Ignoring the professor's concern he reached for Duchamps' jacket pocket, just as the sound of multiple transports flooded the area.

"No!" Duchamps shouted. He grabbed for his pocket, and shoved at Picard, but the captain held fast. Duchamps thrust his palm into Jean-Luc's chin, before he felt himself lifted off the floor by some kind of force that he knew could not possibly have come from Picard, and was thrown through the air. Duchamps hit the wall with a dull thud and slid down to the floor unconscious. Picard scrambled to retrieve the artifact from his old friend's pocket, and only when he felt it enclosed tightly in his palm did he hear the shouts behind him. He pushed off the wall and began to race down the corridor.

"Captain!" He heard Will Riker shout to him, and that is when he must have slowed his pace, but he didn't turn around, just kept running. The stun beam hit him in the back of one leg, and he felt his body quickly growing numb. To his own astonishment however, he was able to increase his speed. The phaser fire continued, and he felt himself get hit again several times more. He didn't truly question why he wasn't falling down. Suddenly he was brutally slammed sideways, and spun to the floor face down. _That wasn't the stun setting...they're trying to kill me..._ The artifact still clutched in his palm, he gasped, pushing himself off of the floor. His vision was dim, but he could see Worf in front of him, a few meters away. Beyond that was the atrium, below which was a large reflective pool, one of the most popular sights for visitors at the Daystrom Institute. He didn't know exactly how deep the pool was, but it couldn't have been more than a meter or two. _Not safe, but I must escape._

"Captain, stop!" Worf was coming at him now, and he saw the Klingon raise his phaser to fire. Somehow he evaded Worf and then jumped up and out over the handrail. There was a rush of air in his ears, he was falling, and then blackness.


End file.
